“You know how I knew,” I said, and then cursed inwardly. She’d just gotten my admission to making the call. Of course, it wasn’t like my ability to sense the dead was the secret I was hiding.

Nori smiled, flashing a double row of needle-thin teeth. I tried not to show a reaction, but by the way her smile spread, I knew my face had given me away.

“Here is the way I see it, Miss Craft,” she said, that strange keening sound filling the air again. “There is a second rift allowing the Aetheric to bleed into the mortal realm. There is compelling proof to suggest that you were responsible for the first known tear, which means you likely caused this one as well. The proximity to a crime scene means the two are likely connected. That alone is enough evidence to have a fae summoned to Faerie while further investigations occur.”

“I—”

She cut me off with a wave of her hand. “Even if the two are later proven not to be connected, the current evidence looks damning, so that fae should be taken back to Faerie for his or her own protection. Humans can be ruthless to those they don’t understand.”

I swallowed. She was threatening me. There was no denying at this point that she knew I had fae blood, and she wasn’t giving me an option of not going to Faerie. Will she slap cuffs on me and drag me off right here and now? My gaze shot past her head, searching for Falin. He was near the gate, talking to two men in suits who I was pretty sure I’d seen identify themselves as working for the Ambassador of Fae and Human Relations. I met Falin’s eyes, just briefly, but hopefully long enough to convey that I could seriously use an intervention. Then I focused on Nori again.

“I didn’t open that tear,” I said, instilling as much certainty in my voice as possible.

She frowned. She couldn’t insist that I was both fae enough to be held under fae laws but human enough to lie. Though I supposed she could still drag me to Faerie under the pretense of protecting me from humans who perceived me as being able to open rifts.

“Is there a problem, Agent?” Falin asked as he joined us.

And the cavalry arrives.

“Sir.” Agent Nori stood straighter, her wings flaring behind her. “I believe this . . . person . . . should be detained and transported to Faerie immediately,” she said, and then repeated the scenarios and reasoning she’d given me a moment before, though this time the tone of her delivery held no threats—it was just the facts of her case.

Falin listened to her recitation and my pulse beat double time despite the exhaustion and chill as he nodded at several of her points. If she hadn’t been talking about me or suggesting the gross violation of personal freedom, I’d have thought she made a compelling case, which wasn’t reassuring. When she finally finished, Falin rubbed his chin for a moment, as if weighing the decision.

He won’t really let her cart me off to Faerie, will he? I didn’t actually know.

I glanced behind me at the cops who were processing the crime scene. I spotted several familiar faces working the site, John among them, which was a relief. The NCPD wouldn’t interfere if Nori arrested me, but she couldn’t just make me disappear into Faerie. I was a legal citizen and I had friends who would make sure I was granted due process. Of course, that relied on someone knowing what had happened to me. I took a step back, closer to the gate, and prepared to cause a scene if it came to that.

Thankfully, it proved not to be necessary.

After a moment of deliberation, Falin shook his head. “I think taking her to Faerie now would be premature.” He turned to me. “Miss Craft, you are appearing too frequently in this investigation. If you value your time in the mortal realm, I suggest you consider your actions very, very carefully.”

I nodded, trying to look properly admonished and frightened, which considering that the idea of being dragged to Faerie scared the crap out of me, wasn’t hard. Besides, the pompous delivery of Falin’s threat might have been for Nori’s benefit, but I knew full well that he meant every word of it.

A film crawled over Nori’s multifaceted eyes from the outside toward her nose and back—a blink?—and she said, “Sir, I’d like it on the record that I think it is in the best interest of the queen, the fae, and even Miss Craft herself if she were removed to Faerie.”

“Duly noted, Agent. You’re dismissed.”

She stared at him, that keening sound issuing from her wings, the disharmonious notes rising in decibels until the sound grated in my head like nails down a chalkboard. Falin turned his back on her, accenting her dismissal.

“Miss Craft, since you are at the scene already, there are a few matters I’d like to discuss with you,” Falin said in the same professional but antagonistic tone he’d been using since he interjected himself in the situation, but as Nori stormed off his voice dropped. “She’s going to cause trouble,” he muttered, shaking his head.

He ran a hand through his hair, the movement stiff, jerky, and I frowned as I studied the exhaustion written across his face. I myself felt ready to drop, and while he’d gotten a few more hours of sleep than I had, he was also healing from a nearly fatal wound.

“You okay?” I asked as I touched his arm. Why do people do that? Touch people they’re concerned about? What comfort or reassurance can it really give? But I didn’t even think about it; I just flowed into his space and reached out as if we had some sort of history instead of an acquaintance that would equal less than a week if all the moments we’d actually spent together were added up.

Falin looked at where I touched his arm, and a small smile crooked one edge of his lips. The expression didn’t change a single line of the exhaustion in his face, but it did make him look less haggard, not quite so worn down. He covered my hand with his gloved one and squeezed my fingers gently. Then he stepped back out of reach and straightened, becoming once again the no-nonsense FIB agent in charge.

“Come on,” he said, turning toward the gate. “You came out here to walk this scene. Your presence has already done all the damage it can, so let’s check out this ritual and get out of here.”

Chapter 20

I signed in with the uniformed officer manning the gate. I sure as hell didn’t have clearance to cross the crime tape, but there were so many different agencies on the scene, I don’t think the harassed man knew who was supposed to have access to where. I had an FIB escort, and that was good enough for him. Preventing the scene from being contaminated was a lost cause anyway. With the skimmers, Bell’s security and lawyers, Lusa and her cameraman, the paramedics and healers, and the magical scuffle that had occurred, the week-old murder scene was a mess. I didn’t envy John his job.

And speaking of... “Hey, John,” I said as I approached my favorite, but currently very exasperated, homicide detective.

“Alex?” He cocked his head to the side, which, considering that he was the lead detective and I’d just walked into a crime scene, was a better response than I’d expected. Then his gaze landed on Falin and his posture stiffened. “Detective Andrews, this is a crime scene.”

“Agent, actually,” Falin said, flashing his FIB badge.

I could almost see wheels turning behind John’s eyes as he looked at the badge and refit Falin into a new box in his mind, reevaluating the events of a month ago and the Coleman case with the new knowledge that Falin was FIB. Finally he nodded.

“Alex, I don’t particularly need you here, so unless . . . ?” John tilted his head, the implied question going to Falin.

“I’d like her to walk the scene.”

“Fine.” John jerked his head in a curt nod. I don’t think he meant to project it, but when he focused on me I caught the disappointment in his gaze. Then he turned back to the CSI and ABMU officers he’d been talking to before we’d approached.

The dismissal stung almost as much as the look I’d seen in his eyes, and I stood there stunned for a moment. I mean, I’d been the one who called him with the tip about the body, and we were both out here in the middle of the night searching for clues about who’d caused this nightmare. Of course, he was a cop, so looking for murderers was his job, not mine, and the FIB and the police didn’t have the most solid working relationship. My showing up on the scene with Falin probably made it look like I was throwing my support to the enemy. With that in mind, I tried not to take it personally, but as I walked away my footsteps felt heavier than they had before, the exhaustion pressing on me worse.

I would have liked to head straight for the rift, but as far as anyone knew, my specialty was only the dead. I had appearances to maintain, so Falin led me to the bridge and the dilapidated tent city first. The booted left foot had been found amid a pile of shoes inside a fire barrel. No one had told me how many shoes had been collected as evidence, but I’d heard two techs mention that all the empty shoes had been rights. The one left in the bunch contained a foot. So what is happening to the right feet? Or the rest of the bodies, for that matter.

I stretched my senses as we walked. Many of the tents and lean-tos sported charms and one or two were even warded, which surprised me, though I guess it shouldn’t have. I didn’t spend a lot of time considering Nekros’s homeless, but it could happen to anyone—norm, witch, or fae alike. I took a moment to examine each of the charms my senses brushed against, but most were charms to prevent leaking or to discourage spiders. None felt malicious or carried the magical signature from the feet or constructs.

“Let’s move on,” I said once we’d walked the entire encampment.

As we headed back up the bank, I tripped on an empty bottle half buried in the loose stones and only Falin catching my elbow and steadying me kept me on my feet. I glared at the offending bottle, but the real problem was my own exhaustion. I wasn’t sure when I’d started trembling, but I’d been doing it for a while and I couldn’t stop. I’d been straddling the chasm between the living and the dead—as well as a couple of other realities—for too long. I’m going to pay for this later.